


More Things in Heaven and Earth

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: Finding Peace [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Empath Ianto, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Episode: s01e06 Countrycide, sci-fi tropes, shameless Hamlet quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: "Being with Lisa was the most peace I'd ever experienced with another person. Until you, Jack. And that scares me a little."
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Finding Peace [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711411
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

Ianto blinked rapidly at the bright light in his eyes, and he would have growled at Owen if he'd had the energy. Exhausted in the wake of the adrenaline rush that had gotten him out of the human abattoir, Ianto only half listened to Owen muttering over him with a field kit and Jack striding around giving orders.

"Owen, make sure no one is in danger of bleeding to death. Gwen, sit down before you fall over and call the local authorities and tell them to get their asses out here. Tosh, help Owen and get everyone secured. Ianto," Jack paused. "Can you find the SUV?"

"Yes, sir," Ianto answered over Owen's protests. He needed to get away from everyone for a few minutes.

"Jack, he should –"

"I'm okay," Ianto said firmly, shrugging out from under Owen's hand on his shoulder. He had no control left, his barriers torn to shreds under multiple blows to the head and the resulting concussion. He'd never been great at keeping his barriers intact when he was in pain, and he felt absolutely shredded. Owen's pain-killers were woefully inadequate, Ianto decided.

He rose on shaky legs, swaying slightly for a moment. He could feel Owen's fear, anger, and concern as the doctor reached out to steady him. "Ianto-"

"S'not far," Ianto said softly. "I'm okay." I'm okay, we're okay, we're alive, we made it, don't panic, we're okay he kept repeating in his head, trying to maintain some sense of self, of separateness from everything he felt whirling around him. God, he missed Lisa.

"Like fuck you are," Owen swore, but released his arm.

Ianto headed off at a slow pace toward where the SUV should have been. As he moved away from the others, the almost palpable buzzing faded and then ceased, and Ianto let out a shaky breath. He had to maintain control somehow. Exhausted and beaten to within an inch of his life, Ianto knew he had little chance of building his barriers back up in the little time they had before they returned to Cardiff. But he had to try something. Because if he freaked out, there would be too many questions to answer.

He sat himself down on the low stone wall he'd approached the day before and used a few moments to focus himself. It had been so long since he'd had to work without an anchor that it took him longer than he would have liked to reach that inner calm that would allow him to keep a hold of himself.

Ianto focused on the feelings of peace and contentment that had washed through him when Jack had kissed him in the kitchen a few nights before. The Captain had done something, healed Ianto's knee with a kiss (so it seemed) and left Ianto more centered than he'd felt in the weeks since Lisa had died. Ianto wrapped himself in the memory of that feeling, trying to reclaim the sense calm he'd felt. It wasn't like he could just walk up to Jack and ask for a repeat performance, not with everyone just standing there.

There had been a few quiet nights since the incident with the mara and Jasmine, and Ianto had found he quite enjoyed spending the late hours with Jack, talking until he fell asleep, usually against Jack (Ianto wasn't sure he could classify what they did as cuddling) on the camp bed barely big enough for the both of them. Ianto had missed the intimacy of being with another person, and he found Jack quite comfortable to be with. The Captain was taking things slow for his benefit, Ianto knew, and until they'd set off for the countryside, he had been ready to show Jack that he was ready to move forward.

Struggling to concentrate as his thoughts wandered, Ianto turned back to that memory of the kiss, once again slipping inside it to reclaim that sense of almost euphoric calm that Jack had given him. After a few long minutes he sighed in relief as he felt a few things slip back into place in his mind. He'd kept those barriers so tight for so long they were almost a comforting presence, despite the disconnect he sometimes felt with the people around him. He knew that this time it wouldn't be nearly enough, but hopefully he could hold it together long enough to get them back to the hub, where he could have his breakdown in private.

No one knew what he'd been at Torchwood 1. Jack did, of course, but no one else knew about the team he'd been on, that he'd been a field agent like them only a year before. Didn't know that he'd effectively retired at the ripe age of 26, why he'd chosen a life in the shadows of Torchwood 3, the Archivist, the tea-boy. He took the Archivist position with pleasure, a chance to pull back from it all, to not reveal more of himself, to not risk getting too involved, getting overwhelmed.

Only Jack knew the truth. That one of the primary reasons he'd been recruited by Torchwood-1 was because he was a telepathic adept – an empath. It helped that he was also a naturally efficient and organized person with an extreme eye for detail. So they'd trained him up as best they could (sometimes Ianto cursed Torchwood's science for science's sake mentality), put him on a special ops team and let him work in the Archives when he wasn't needed elsewhere.

He rose again slowly, nauseous from head trauma, exhausted and dizzy with pain, and shaking slightly with fading adrenaline. The SUV was just over the hill, according to the last readings he'd taken from the tracker.

When he found the vehicle, it took a minute for his hands to stop shaking enough to get the key into the ignition. Ianto felt hyperaware of everything as he drove slowly back around to the front of the pub where the rest of the team had gathered. As he approached, he could feel everything pressing into him again, though thankfully somewhat less than before. He concentrated on pulling the SUV to a stop in the midst of the arriving emergency services vehicles without hitting anyone. His line of vision was swimming. He closed his eyes for a moment after switching off the engine, resting his forehead on the steering wheel.

"Ianto? Jesus. Tosh!" Owen yelled.

Ianto groaned as the throbbing in his head increased, blocking most of Owen's voice (he was probably just swearing), though the doctor's concern was rolling onto Ianto in waves. He felt himself being lifted out of the driver's seat and half-walked half-carried before being sat again.

"Stupid bloody bastard," Owen mumbled. "Stay here this time."

Ianto looked up to see Owen swaggering away towards his field kit. He was sat in the boot of the SUV, hands on his thighs. He let his eyes slide closed again as he focused on isolating himself from the whirlwind of emotion around him. But he was tired and hurt and there were just too many people, and his head was pounding in time with his heart (faster, faster don't panic fight the panic), leaving him mostly defenseless despite all the training and lessons he'd had.

A gentle hand fell on his shoulder and it suddenly faded. Muted, as if Ianto's barriers had suddenly erected themselves at a thousand times stronger than ever before. Ianto reveled in a true sense of peace he hadn't felt in an age. He looked up to see Jack, standing straight and looking completely unruffled in his great coat. Ianto just stared.

How was it even possible? Even Lisa had never let Ianto feel so at peace within his own head. He'd never been able to completely shut himself off from others' emotions before, even at the height of his Torchwood sponsored psi training he'd never been completely free of feeling what those around him felt. How had he not noticed this before when Jack touched him? Was it just because he was so vulnerable that Jack's touch affected him this way? How was Jack –

"You okay?" Jack was looking at him curiously.

Ianto nodded slowly, unable to speak. Concern was written in Jack's expression, his body language, but Ianto couldn't feel it. And then suddenly he could as Jack's hand slid away. He couldn't help but gasp slightly as the rush of emotion returned and he could feel again. Jack's concern, anger, remorse, guilt.

"Did I hurt you?" Jack asked suddenly.

"No," Ianto gasped out. "Not particularly." Truly, he was bruised and aching and Jack's grip had hurt slightly, but he could have coped with that hurt for the removal of another.

He wondered if Jack was going to kiss him again.

Jack didn't look convinced. "Do you want the paramedics to check you out?"

"Only if they have better drugs than Owen."

That elicited a laugh from Jack who beckoned the emergency personnel over and stepped away.

Ianto sat through another exam and gentle patching up before he was given another shot and told to take it easy. The painkiller dulled his physical pains which allowed Ianto to turn a bit more attention inward. He tried to maintain the appearance of calm as the others joined him to put their things away, trying to give away nothing to indicate he was in distress, or close to giving over to the panic that was rising as he became overwhelmed by what everyone else was feeling, as his own sense of identity slowly began to slip away.

Only the thought of the consequences truly kept him from giving over to a full blown panic attack (hadn't had one since he was 13). Torchwood had trained him up better than that, given him the resources to be a useful member of the team, not a fucking liability like his current team saw him.

Jack's arm around his waist was welcome, as was the silence it brought as he led Ianto around to the back seat of the vehicle. It gave him a few moments of calm to pull himself together again, knowing that after a good night's sleep he'd be almost right as rain again, letting that thought comfort him as he braced himself for the ride back to Cardiff. He leaned into Jack's warm embrace, receiving a gentle squeeze from the arm around his waist. It was almost enough to make Ianto smile.

It wasn't long before Ianto could feel his barriers slipping again, head trauma and exhaustion depleting whatever control he had left over himself. Ianto took a couple of breaths, as deep as he could manage with the weight and tightness on his chest and ribs, fighting for a bit more strength, a bit more control, because he wasn't sure what would happen if he let go. Everyone was feeling a bit too much and a bit too loudly, emotions striking against his mental shields like waves on a sandcastle.

Too much.

He had tried to zone out as soon as Jack had started the SUV moving. The gentle rhythm of the vehicle on the pavement combined with the analgesic the paramedics had given him would normally have been enough to set him dozing against the window in the back seat. But he was grimy, itching for a shower and clean clothes, though Tosh didn't seem to mind as she leaned against him and promptly fell asleep, her head against his chest (he didn't have the heart to move her even though the extra weight was painful on his bruised ribs).

Tosh was overwhelming Ianto with her warring emotions, gratitude, anger, fear, all battling for dominance in her mind, while Ianto fought to keep control of his own emotions and not let himself be dragged under. Part of it was proximity, but he wouldn't have moved Tosh if he'd had the energy. Her well-being was more important than his own.

"Ianto, you're not sleeping, are you?" Owen leaned around Tosh.

"I'm awake," he said softly. Owen had promised (threatened) a full neuro-workup when they got back the hub after diagnosing concussion and slight oxygen deprivation. Ianto figured he'd get too distracted by Gwen to follow through.

Owen was trying not to act as scared as he felt, and Ianto was desperately trying to not feel the other man's underlying attraction (though he wondered at whom it was aimed). The doctor's earlier worry had been somewhat a relief to encounter, as had the remorse Ianto had sensed when Owen had gave him the once over.

Gwen would be his undoing, Ianto knew as he again tried to focus on breathing. Her pain, fear, confusion and hate were all so strong he could feel them almost more than Tosh's tangible presence against his side.

But he held it together. He tried to imagine a little sci-fi type force field around the battered sand castle, each exhale making it glow a little brighter(Jack's eyes were that color) blue. The panic receded like the tide, slowly, but he could feel it lingering, bubbling just below the surface, like a pot of water not quite come to boil. He again scrambled for the remembered feeling of calm and peace, but it eluded him as too many conflicting emotions roiled around in a too small space.

Tosh stirred against Ianto as the SUV pulled into the hub garage. He looked down at her as she came awake, blinking furiously. Her eyes shone brightly and Ianto hugged her gently, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulder.

She frowned a little. "Ianto? You're as white as a sheet. Are you okay?" She sat up slowly as the engine shut off.

Ianto nodded as her concern washed over him.

It broke him.

She cared about him. She worried about him. They all did, he could feel it. Why? Oh, God, he didn't deserve that. He'd nearly gotten them all killed not that long ago. He'd nearly gotten Tosh killed earlier in the day. Why should they worry for him? He wasn't worth it. Wrong, wrong, he was supposed to be in the shadows, be their support, so they didn't have to worry about anything, least of all him. He was the steady presence, the tea-boy, the Archivist, the quiet one and he liked it that way.

Ianto could feel his heart pounding and his breathing become tight and fast and he gave into the panic. He wasn't aware of anything around him as he lost himself in the range of emotions within and around him


	2. Chapter 2

The SUV was nearly silent as Jack pulled into the hub's underground garage. He understood that no-one felt much like talking. Even Jack, who had seen a lot of things in his time, had been shaken by what they'd seen in the country village.

He wasn't sure he would ever get the image of a bound, gagged, and bloody Ianto out of his head. One more image to add to his collection. One more person who suffered simply by association with Jack.

He bit back a sigh. He shouldn't have tried to convince Ianto to join them in the field. He thought it would be a good idea to show Ianto and everyone that he was just as much a member of the team as they were. That had failed spectacularly.

The fall of Torchwood Tower had taken more than Ianto's lover. It had taken his whole support network. Jack had tried to get him to go out in the field again shortly after he'd arrived in Cardiff, but Ianto had decided he was done with that part of his life (too young to retire from field work, Jack had said) and politely but firmly refused.

Jack thought he understood why, as he watched Ianto in the rearview mirror. The young man was visibly trying to control his breathing, one arm draped over a dozing Toshiko, eyes clenched shut. Between the experience itself and the concussion that Owen confirmed, it was no surprise that the younger man's mental barriers weren't up to the strain. He was sure that the close quarters of the vehicle hadn't helped with everyone's emotions running so high.

Gwen was visibly shaken, still clutching a hand to her side despite being patched up properly by paramedics (Owen had done a fine job in the field, but it just hadn't been up to running around in the woods) and dosed with pain killers. Owen was hunkered down, trying not to look as shaken as he'd probably felt at witnessing one of their own get nearly slaughtered. Tosh looked somewhat traumatized, even in sleep, her wrists bandaged where the ropes had torn into the soft flesh during her dash through said wood.

And Ianto – he'd been mostly cleaned up by the paramedics, but some marks couldn't be wiped away. Plasters covered the nicks on his neck where the cleaver had bit too far into flesh. His nose was swollen and a large goose-egg stood out above his left eye (overshadowing the large bruise over his right). Jack was all too familiar with the semi-hunched stance Ianto had adopted both from the bruised and battered chest and torso and the blow to his groin.

Jack knew Ianto would be fine. He'd seen and been through worse with Torchwood 1. It had been nearly a year since Ianto had been truly in the field, and this wasn't quite what Jack had in mind when he suggested taking the whole team out to investigate the disappearances. All Ianto would need, Jack thought, was space to get himself put back together, and he'd be back to the quiet tea-boy, lurking in the shadows of Torchwood 3.

Jack tried not to feel bad about relegating Ianto to that position – he had wanted it after all. But he couldn't help but feel responsible for how far Ianto had become distanced from the rest of the team, despite being just as if not more capable in the field than they were. He had to admit, it was nice having someone at the Hub ready for whatever they brought back, or to be on backup, or even to just be ready with coffee or tea. Even if it was a waste of Ianto's other skills (he was brilliant with the Archives), Jack would've hired him solely for his coffee.

"Ianto?" he heard Tosh ask in the backseat as he switched off the engine. "You're as white as a sheet. Are you okay?"

Jack didn't hear an answer as he slid out of the vehicle. Half of him just wanted to send everyone home so he could assure himself that Ianto was okay. By slowly stripping him of his clothes and paying obsessive detail to every inch of his body, if he had to.

He reminded himself that Ianto had been kneed in the groin earlier and probably wouldn't appreciate that as much as Jack. Maybe just a shower and massage then. Whatever he could do to get his hands on Ianto and reassure himself that the younger man really was alive and in more or less one piece.

Owen was helping Gwen out of the front seat when Tosh called out for him. He turned back to find Ianto huddled on the floor of the garage, shaking and breathing too fast. Shit. He should have seen that coming.

He waved Owen and Gwen off as he moved to Ianto's side. The young man's gaze was vacant and he was pale as death and sweating. Psychic shock, Jack recognized.

Tosh's eyes were wide and frightened. She probably wasn't helping anything, Jack realized.  
"Tosh, why don't you go ahead and go home," he said calmly as he stripped out of his greatcoat and wrapped it around Ianto. "We'll be okay here."

"But-"

"Please," Jack said as calmly as he could. "I'll explain tomorrow, okay? For now, really, I just need you to go."

"Okay." Tosh didn't look happy about it, but she did as she was told and scampered off after Owen and Gwen and the parking lot outside.

Jack crouched down next to Ianto and placed his hands on his shoulders, trying to draw Ianto's attention. The steel blue eyes flickered for a moment, the vacant look vanishing for a bare second before Ianto's eyes closed. "Ianto, look at me," Jack commanded gently.

Ianto gasped out something in Welsh that Jack couldn't decipher (he had picked up a few key phrases), hands clenching into fists.

“Ianto, you’ve got to focus on me,” Jack said urgently. The thin shoulders under his hands were trembling in earnest as Ianto fought to regain control. “Come on, just look at me. Focus on me.” Jack tried to blank his mind as completely as he could remember from his own psi training (so many years ago), reaching for the gray static of complete neutrality that few ever succeeded in grasping.

He had to find calm or he’d never pull Ianto out of this. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to go back into the field. How had he ever managed before?

“Please, Ianto,” he said softly as Ianto continued to mutter and gasp broken phrases in a mix of Welsh and heavily-accented English. “We’re home, we’re safe. It’s just you and me. We’re tucked up nice and safe in bed, warm and sleepy.” Jack tried to keep his voice level and soft and pour all the warmth and serenity he possessed into his tone, anything to convince Ianto that they were okay, not huddled on the cold garage floor against the wheel of the SUV.

Jack slid a hand to Ianto’s neck, carefully wrapping his fingers around the back, stroking lightly with this thumb. He pulled the lanky man to him, wrapping his other arm around as much as Ianto’s tightly curled (bruised, broken) body as he could. He continued to whisper softly, rocking slightly back and forth, continuing to reach for that calm.

He could blame himself later. Right now, he had to get Ianto in a state to put him back together again.

Jack tried to remember all he could about treating psychic shock, but it was all so long ago, and all he could gather from the cobwebs of his memory were warm, calm, and comfort. So he did what he could with what he had, not daring to call for help from any of his traumatized team.

He held Ianto to his chest like a child (he looked like one wrapped up in Jack’s greatcoat) and sang softly, continuing to project all the calm he possessed and rock gently, waiting for Ianto to come back to himself, to find his way out of whatever quagmire had sucked him down.

Jack had no idea of the time passing. His arse grew cold on the cold cement, his legs ached from crouching, and he was hungry and tired, but he focused on Ianto. He released his grip slightly as he noticed the man’s breathing change, no longer short irregular gasps, but slower, more even breaths that had Jack convinced Ianto had finally passed out, save for the tension in the body he couldn’t let go of.

“J-jack?” Ianto stuttered.

“Yeah.” He searched Ianto’s face carefully as the younger man slowly opened his eyes. The vacant expression was fading slowly as Ianto’s heart rate began to slow, the violent tremors downgrading to gentle aftershocks as Jack continued rocking gently back and forth.

Ianto gave a sigh and his head fell forward against Jack’s shoulder, one hand seeking out Jack’s chest, palm over his heart. “What happened?” His accent was thick with exhaustion and emotion.

Jack leaned his cheek against Ianto’s head, suddenly feeling all of his own tiredness. “From this end looks like a panic attack,” he said softly, continuing to play with the hair at the nape of Ianto’s neck.

They clung to each other for a few moments, Jack enjoying the sound of Ianto’s deep, even breathing in the echoing garage.

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a little cold down here.”

Jack huffed a laugh and gave Ianto a squeeze. “Feel like you can move?”

"No," Ianto said honestly. "But I feel like I should."

Jack unwound his arms from around Ianto and rose gracefully. Gently, he pulled Ianto up, holding tight to his waist when he started to sway. "Okay?"

"Hm." Ianto's eyes squinched shut and his breath caught again. "Dizzy. Head hurts."

Jack wasn't surprised. It was going on 24 hours since he'd eaten anything substantial and he'd just expended a huge amount of energy. He was amazed that Ianto was upright and mostly conscious. "Walk with me?"

"Go on. I shall follow thee," Ianto quoted, leaning heavily on Jack.

Jack hesitated for a moment before finally deciding to make the showers their first stop. He figured he could keep Ianto conscious long enough to get him clean, which would make him all the more comfortable.

“Is everyone okay?” Ianto asked quietly after they’d taken a few shuffling steps toward the hub entrance from the garage. “I didn't hurt anyone?”

Jack squeezed him gently, wondering how bad any previous attacks had been if Ianto was worried that he'd hurt someone. “You didn't hurt anyone. Owen’s fine. Gwen will be okay, if she’s any better at listening to doctor’s orders than she is listening to mine.” Ianto snorted. “Tosh is going to be okay, too. Just some bruises and the chafing on her wrists. It’ll heal before she’s done being angry with you.”

Ianto made an inquisitive noise as he found his footing a bit better, taking a little weight off Jack.

“Staying behind?” Jack prompted. “She thought you were going to follow her.” Jack hadn’t yet decided if that made Ianto brave, stupid, or suicidal. Though he supposed it easily could have been all three.

“I tried to follow her,” Ianto said softly, accent growing thicker as he grew closer to exhaustion. “He knocked the wind out of me, and then they hit me on the head. Again.” He took a steadying breath. “I passed out, which was probably a blessing from the way I felt when I woke up. I think they had – well, I’ll have some pretty bruises.”

Jack could tell Ianto was aiming for levity, and he couldn’t help but smile a little at the brave face Ianto was putting on. He had every right to have been terrified. Anyone who said differently was heartless.

“Still,” Jack said. “I’m not sure she’s ready to forgive you quite yet.”

“S'okay,” Ianto slurred. “She got out. She can be cross with me all she wants.”

Jack kissed his temple and led them into the locker room. He sat Ianto on a bench with a gentle command to strip, and went to Ianto’s locker for toiletries (his own were in his rooms) and towels. While there he stripped and wrapped a towel from the communal pile around his waist When he returned, Ianto had managed unbutton his shirt and pull the tail of his tee-shirt out of his jeans.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ianto said softly as Jack knelt between Ianto’s thighs to attack his boots. “I can-”

Jack shushed him. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight tonight,” he started. He stretched up slightly and kissed Ianto gently on the lips. “You’re hurt physically and psychically. You shouldn’t be alone, and I find that I’m quite fond of looking after you.”

"You just want to see me naked," Ianto sighed, but he smiled a little.

"That too," Jack answered and kissed him again, gently before going to work on Ianto's bootlaces. That wasn’t just it, though. Ianto did such a thorough job of looking after them all, that Jack sometimes forgot that even Ianto needed to be tended to every so often. He grinned at Ianto's contented sigh as the boots came off, followed by two layers of socks. His belt followed, and Jack unbuttoned Ianto's jeans before he rose from the floor.

He was careful as he tugged the stained white shirt from Ianto's shoulders, knowing from experience that his back was going to be a mess from being restrained and hauled around. "Arms up," Jack cajoled as he lifted the hem of Ianto's black tee-shirt and lifted gently.

His breath caught as the severity of Ianto's injuries were revealed to him. Jack wanted to touch, to smooth the hurt away, to clear the deep dark bruises of the gorgeous expanse of skin displayed to him, but he stopped himself short. How much pain had Ianto been in and not said anything while Jack was supporting him through the hub?

"It's okay," Ianto said softly. "Good drugs. I'm still fairly numb. Can't feel much."

"You'll feel it tomorrow," Jack responded quietly, not believing Ianto for a second as he laid his hand again at the base of Ianto's neck, one place where he didn't appear marked. "Alright," Jack said after a moment. "Into the shower."

He dropped a towel into Ianto's lap before crouching down in front of him. "Put your hands on my shoulders," Jack said quietly, wrapping the towel around Ianto's narrow waist and reaching for the toiletry case. "Lean on me now." Jack stood, supporting Ianto's weight. Ianto's jeans slid from his hips when he stood. Mindful of Ianto holding onto him for support, Jack carefully tugged at Ianto's y-fronts from under the towel, sliding them over slim, toned thighs.

"Step out," he guided Ianto, taking a small step back so Ianto could get free of the last of his clothes. He maneuvered them so his arm was again around Ianto's waist as they shuffled toward the closest shower stall.

Jack turned the taps on and he silently thanked whoever had installed the hot-water system as steam billowed from under the curtain in a matter of moments. Jack removed the towels they wore and hung them carefully on the hook outside the stall then guided Ianto under the spray.

The stall was large enough to easily accommodate them both, again, foresight and planning on someone's part (this wasn't the first time Jack or Ianto had had to shower with someone because of injury or alien influence). Jack positioned them both under the spray, relishing the hot water on his tired body, letting it soothe away some of the aches.

Ianto sagged against Jack, letting out a happy sigh as he soaked in the hot water. Jack chuckled as he pulled shampoo from Ianto's case with one hand, the other still wrapped around Ianto's waist. Ianto was fading fast, Jack could tell, more and more of his weight coming to rest against Jack's chest and belly. Maybe the hot shower was a bad idea.

"Don't go to sleep on me now, Ianto," he teased as he squeezed a bit of shampoo onto Ianto's hair.

"Yessir," Ianto slurred tiredly.

Jack kissed his shoulder gently as he worked the shampoo to a lather one handed. His other stroked Ianto's belly lightly. Ianto leaned into both touches slightly, stretching a bit and leaning back into Jack more consciously. Jack was beginning to realize that those well cut suits hid more than Ianto's great body, but his hedonistic tendencies as well (or not – they were well made suits as well). Jack idly wondered how much of Ianto had been lost when he'd closed himself off to others when his telepathic abilities began to manifest themselves.

Finished lathering up his hair, Jack pressed Ianto into the spray once more, rinsing gently, careful of the bumps and bruises on his head. Ianto sagged again slightly.

Jack needed to keep Ianto conscious. He was slight of build, but all of him was wiry muscle that Jack doubted he could haul through the hub if Ianto decided to pass out. Keep him talking, Jack decided, was going to be the only way to keep the Welshman even close to awake. "Why did you name Lisa as your last snog?" And couldn’t Jack have just throttled Gwen for starting that conversation. There had to be a reason, though.

"'Cause she was," Ianto answered tiredly.

Jack continued to gently scrub Ianto down with the bar of soap from Ianto's case. "Oh?" They hadn't gotten much farther than kissing in the kitchen a few nights previous, and Jack had been slow to take things farther than that. But there had been snogging, and it had been him and Ianto.

"Hm." Ianto turned his head slightly. "I don't believe I've snogged you properly yet." He flashed Jack the sleepy grin that the Captain found helplessly adorable (and had been honored with nearly three mornings running and hadn't Ianto just looked better for the sleep).

Jack chuckled lightly. He was sure there was more to it than that, but if Ianto wanted to play it off, he was going to let him. Jack hadn't considered the repercussions of the rest of the team knowing what he and Ianto got up to in the long dark hours before morning. But it probably wouldn't have boded well for Ianto. "I look forward to that, then."

"Oh, you should, sir."

Jack decided Ianto deserved a kiss for that, before concluding that Ianto was as clean as was going to get before he passed out completely, and getting a good glimpse of the bruises marring Ianto's body. He propped Ianto up against the wall of the shower for a moment while he gave himself a quick scrub down.

"I wanted them to remember," Ianto said so softly the words were almost swallowed by the shower as Jack reached for the taps.

"Why?" Jack asked as he turned the water off and reached for their towels.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It was petty of me, I know. But I just didn't want them to forget what had happened," Ianto said tiredly. "I'm okay with being invisible. I didn't want them to forget about her. I shouldn't be the only one who remembered." He shrugged one shoulder. "It was a much better idea at the time."

How could he tell Ianto that he wasn't the only one that remembered Lisa? That she was another of the ghosts that haunted Jack in the dark hours of the night (though much less since Ianto had joined his bed). But he understood, or thought he did. Things may have more or less turned back to normal in the hub, but Ianto hadn't forgotten his girlfriend, or forgotten that it was his teammates who had ultimately taken her life. He and Ianto had talked and Jack knew that Ianto had realized that Lisa hadn't been Lisa by that point, but that didn't mean he'd completely forgiven the others for their role in her death.

"Okay." He let it go. Jack kissed Ianto again as he wrapped a towel around his waist. Ianto hung onto the side of the shower stall for a moment while Jack wrapped himself up.

Despite being half-asleep, Ianto groused about the puddles they left as they moved through the hub to the door to Jack's quarters (taking the lesser used door rather than trying to navigate the hatch). Jack talked softly while coaxing Ianto into a pair sweat pants, smiling fondly when Ianto let his head rest on Jack’s shoulder as he slowly lifted one leg, and then the other and allowed Jack to dress him.

As Ianto settled into a doze, half curled up in the center of Jack’s camp bed, the Captain threw on clothes of his own and ventured out into the hub to scavenge for supplies and sundries.

**

Jack returned with toast, juice, a half-dozen bottles of water and one of Gwen's chocolate bars (after leaving a note promising suitable recompense) to find Ianto still dozing lightly. He set the tray on the steamer trunk that served as his nightstand and eased himself down on his bed so his hip was even with Ianto's head. Ianto didn't stir.

After draining a bottle of water in three long pulls, Jack plucked a book from the chest and read while idly running his fingers through Ianto's drying hair. He looked up after bit and glanced at the clock. It hadn't been all that long since Ianto had dozed off, but Jack was going to have to wake him up periodically throughout the night anyway, to appease himself that Ianto was okay until he could get Owen to put him under the scanner.

He figured that Ianto was feeling more pain than he was letting on. Jack would have done something to ease the pain, to help Ianto heal, but the last time, Ianto had pushed him away, and Jack hadn't had a chance to offer without the others around. And he didn't want Ianto to think he was taking advantage of him.

"Ianto," Jack said softly, grasping his shoulder gently and squeezing. "Ianto, I need you to wake up," he said in his best commander voice while keeping his voice down. He smiled as blue-grey eyes fluttered open. "Hi."

"Ngh," Ianto replied. He closed his eyes again, but shifted around on the cot. "First time I've felt like I could actually sleep in months, and you're going to keep waking me up, aren't you?"

Jack's smile widened at the familiar dry sarcasm. "Yup." Relieved to hear Ianto sounding more like himself, Jack dropped a kiss to his forehead.

"Joy," Ianto muttered. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Nope," Jack said cheerfully. "Hungry?"

Ianto frowned. "Actually, yes."

As Ianto pulled himself into a sitting position, Jack reached for the tray. "From the gourmet kitchen of Chez Jack we have toast, orange juice, and the house specialty, a bar of chocolate courtesy of PC Cooper."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Orange juice and chocolate?"

Jack nodded. "And toast. Seems someone hasn't restocked the larder since our last all night weevil hunting session." Which was only two nights ago, Jack reflected. They'd been busy.

"If someone hadn't taken us to the bloody countryside," Ianto grumbled, but took the toast and juice Jack offered. "I would have done."

Jack chuckled. They ate in comfortable silence, Ianto keeping his toast over the plate, Jack not being nearly so neat and ending up with crumbs in his lap that he carelessly brushed to the floor. He pretended not to notice Ianto's exasperated sigh and shake of the head. But again, he was more relieved that Ianto seemed to be more or less himself.

"Did Gwen get her answers?" Ianto asked suddenly, breaking the silence as he set the empty juice glass on the plate.

"Not the ones she was looking for," Jack admitted. "If it had been out of necessity, maybe," Jack trailed off. Ianto didn't need to know the villager's reasons for slaughtering people once a decade.

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Ianto murmured. "I sometimes wonder if she's ever going to realize that." He groaned softly. "I need to lay down," he grunted.

Jack cleared the space on the bed and helped Ianto shift so he was on his back, head in Jack's lap. "Okay?"

Ianto nodded, eyes closed.

"What were you saying about Gwen?" Jack prompted Ianto to continue talking, playing with the unruly hair that had stuck out as it dried while Ianto napped.

"I get why you hired her," Ianto said quietly. "She brings a human element to the team that sometimes seems to be lacking. Owen's a great physician, but he lacks people skills. Tosh would rather deal with tech than people sometimes. But Gwen's – almost too human," Ianto finished softly. "I'm not sure she's capable of seeing the world in the larger scope. Like after the mara." Ianto took a breath. "She couldn't seem to understand the fate of the world versus the fate of the girl. And I think it's going to be a problem one of these days."

"Prescient as well as telepathic?" Jack tried to joke, but he got what Ianto was saying. They'd seen it a few times already, with Jasmine, with Ed Morgan, with her desperate need to understand why the cannibals slaughtered people. She got attached to causes, to people, and Ianto was right – if she got attached to the wrong thing – well, Jack didn't really want to think about it.

Ianto shook his head slightly. "Not enough to be reliable," he said seriously. "It's just a feeling. Like the something that's simmering between Gwen and Owen. Has been for weeks now."

Jack grinned and kissed Ianto's temple. "Even I sensed that," he teased.

Ianto chuckled and winced.

"Painkillers wore off?" Jack stroked his jaw lightly.

"Yeah," Ianto admitted.

"Do you trust me?" Jack asked. The last time he'd done what he was about to, Ianto had pushed him away. But Jack didn't think he'd be rejected so out of hand this time.

Ianto opened his eyes, locking his gaze on Jack's. "Yes."

Jack kissed Ianto, reaching inside himself and finding that spark of gold and glitter that seemed to reside in the back of his mind. He focused on that image, making the spark a flame, imagining a candle he tipped it against an unlit candle, transferring the flame, encouraging it go glow brightly for a moment before willing it out, the gold and glitter fading back to the dark recess of his mind as he broke the kiss.

Ianto's breathing was deep and even under Jack's hand, resting on his chest. His eyes fluttered open again after a few moments. Jack was sure he'd fallen asleep again. But Ianto's gaze was clear again, more life in them and considerably less pain. Jack hadn't healed everything, but he'd given him a significant head start. Enough, anyway, that he'd be able to sit up without being in pain and so he could sleep through the night.

"Better now?" Jack asked.

"Yeah." Ianto closed his eyes and seemed to turn inward for a moment. "Thank you."

Jack bent at the urgent tugging on his vest and let himself be kissed. Ianto was still tired, and they both needed to get some rest, but Jack needed to know what had triggered the psychic shock earlier, and putting the conversation off wasn't going to help anything.

"Ianto?"

"Hm?" the response was sleepy.

"Do you know what happened? What triggered the panic attack?"

"I think so," Ianto answered. He hummed happily for a moment as Jack ran his fingers lightly over his flank. "Too many blows to the head, I think. Da' always said I was hard headed, but not enough this time."

Jack smiled, relieved that Ianto was back to himself enough to joke, but still worried. He dropped a kiss to the bare shoulder closest to him.

"It was the concussion," Ianto finally said. "I was disoriented and I couldn't focus enough to keep everyone's feelings out of my head. Everyone was feeling too loudly and there just wasn't time to ask Tosh to –" he stopped and shook his head gently. "I was overwhelmed. It's happened before, though not to this extent, not for a long time."

"Ask Tosh to what?" Jack asked. Ianto hadn't simply been scared for his life earlier (though justifiably so), but reeling from what he sensed around him and drowning in it.

"Anchor me. I need an anchor, Jack," Ianto said softly. "If you're going to want me in the field, I need someone to anchor to so this doesn't happen again. It usually only happens with people who are particularly strong willed, or when I'm injured or over-tired, but it always makes it easier to be anchored," he explained patiently.

"Who was your anchor before?" Jack understood the concept of anchoring. Telepathic adepts, especially those who were more skilled at feeling rather than thought (like Ianto), were often overwhelmed when actively using their talent, or, like what had happened in the Beacons, tired, injured, or any of the three. An anchor steadied their adept, helping to keep focus and not drown in the emotion.

Jack also knew that the closer a pair were, the more intimate the bond, the better the anchor worked.

Ianto turned his head and met his gaze. "Lisa." He sighed. "That's how we met." He took a breath. "You said I was a steady presence, Jack. That you could lean on me and I wouldn't break. Lisa was my rock. Literally, for all the emotion she possessed, as much as she felt, she rarely projected anything. Being with her was the most peace I'd ever experienced with another person. Until you. And that scares me a little," Ianto finished in a whisper.

"Why?" Jack spread his palm over Ianto's ribcage.

"Because I could lose myself in you, Jack. It would be so easy to let myself become dependant on you. I could need you too much."

Like Lisa remained unsaid. Certain pieces came together. It was no wonder that Ianto hadn't completely recognized that Lisa had been gone. If she was as emotionally solid as Ianto claimed, he may not have been as receptive to the conversion as he would have in anyone else.

No wonder he had been so desperate to try to save her.

Jack was suddenly overwhelmingly glad that he'd chosen to take his time in cultivating his relationship with Ianto. If they had just jumped straight into a physically intimate relationship, Jack realized, he would have likely fostered an unhealthy co-dependence that he just couldn't do. He couldn't let Ianto get that dependant on him. He wouldn't be around forever, for all that he couldn't die. The Doctor would turn up sooner or later to help Jack find the answers he needed, and he couldn't be sure when that would be or how long it would take. If Ianto became dependant on Jack for that sense of peace, of sanity, it would break him when (and not if) Jack left.

Jack didn't know if he could bear the guilt of that.

"So before you even offer," Ianto interrupted Jack's thoughts. "No. You can't be my anchor."

Jack blinked. "Why not?" Was Ianto just giving him an out? A "get out of potentially damaging relationship" free card?

Ianto sighed and eased himself up so he was sitting next to Jack, shoulders touching, instead of lying with his head in his lap. "When you touched me today, and asked if you'd hurt me?"

Jack nodded, remembering the moment.

"Everything got quiet when you touched me, Jack. Everything. It was like a damp blanket had been dropped over everyone, muting everything. I couldn't even read you, and you were standing right there. I didn't feel anything from you until you let go of me." Ianto took a breath. "I don't know how to explain it, or if I even want to. I don't know if it was just because I wasn't in control of my own barriers, or if it's something you're doing unconsciously. All I know is that I can't anchor to you, because I'll never want to let you go."

"Where does that leave us?" Jack asked quietly, feeling suddenly at sea. When Ianto touched him he couldn't sense anything? What had happened to him? He'd never been great at psi training, sure, but he'd been able to control his own mind enough to pass all the tests the Time Agency had thrown at him. If Ianto could lose himself in Jack, did that mean that he didn't want to continue what ever it was they had going?

He could tell Ianto wasn't lying. This wasn't a simple trick to get out of whatever it was they had going. Ianto was serious. And scared, on some level, Jack realized. Ianto had become dangerously dependant on Lisa and he didn't want the same thing to happen. Did that mean he didn't want to be with Jack at all? If that was it, Jack could understand, and he could see why it hadn't come up before. There had been no reason to. Ianto was the tea-boy who stayed in the hub, never risking anything, not needing anyone to support him because he supported them all.

But he didn't think so. Not with the way that Ianto was looking at him, affection and something else in tired blue eyes. Ianto wasn't trying to escape from him, Jack realized. He was just trying to protect what little of himself he had left.

"It leaves us right here," Ianto said firmly. "I just don't think I can do a working partnership again, Jack. Not right now." He seized Jack's hands. "I like being with you. I want to be with you. I just – oh, fuck, I'm making a mess of this," Ianto said quietly.

Jack found himself being kissed gently, tenderly, Ianto's hand cupping the back of his head lightly. He pulled away. "I want you, Jack," Ianto said softly. "But not as my boss, and not as my anchor." He kissed Jack again. "I want you as the man who holds me at night and chases the demons away. I want you as the man I need to look after to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I want you as the lovely fucked up man you are who needs to be reminded that he's human and makes a difference in the world and as the man who reminds me that there are things in the world worth actually living for."

Ianto kissed Jack again, deep and sweet, cupping his face in both of his hands, thumbs brushing over Jack's cheekbones. When Ianto broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against Jack's. "I know it's nearly impossible for us to separate work and private lives as we live them, Jack," Ianto said softly. "But what I want – what I need," he corrected, breath ghosting over Jack's lips "is to have you outside of work, at the end of the day, to find a quiet space in the world where I can just be. Because that's what I feel like with you." Ianto sat back. "I want to want you, Jack," he whispered. "I want to enjoy being with you, I want to look forward to spending time with you, to sex, to quiet nights, and to be able to spend a night apart when we need some space. I don't want to have to feel like I need you. It wouldn't be fair to you."

Jack tugged Ianto to him and kissed him soundly, tangling his fingers of one hand in the hair at the nape of Ianto's neck, the other softly caressing his throat and jaw. He understood. He didn't deserve this man. He didn't deserve someone to keep reminding him he was human, someone who wouldn't use him for their own selfish aims, someone who just cared, and cared enough to be able to draw a line.

Ianto pulled away first, gently pushing at Jack's chest. "Some of us mortals still need to breathe," he joked, panting slightly.

Jack smiled and kissed him again lightly before shifting and tugging so they were both horizontal on the narrow camp bed. "And sleep."

Ianto yawned. "Yes. Sleep." He sought out one of Jack's hands. "Can I ask you something, Jack?"

"Sure." He propped his head up on one of his hands, elbow sliding slightly against the sheet looking down into Ianto's contented face.

"Would it kill you to get a real bed?" Ianto smirked sleepily.

"I'll think about it. So what do we do about putting you out in the field?" Jack asked, curling himself gently around Ianto, who was quickly fading into sleep again, despite being quite lucid only moments ago.

"I meant it when I said I was done with that part of my life," Ianto murmured. "But if you want me out there, I can see if Tosh is willing to act as my anchor."

"Not Gwen?" Jack was mildly surprised.

Ianto made a negative noise. "Like I said earlier, she's too empathetic. And she projects so loudly I'm surprised Owen can't hear her."

Jack laughed a little. "So I guess we're ruling Owen out, too."

Ianto made a noise that Jack interpreted as 'not a fucking chance.'

"Okay." Jack kissed Ianto's bare shoulder again. "Let's take it as it comes, then. I'll respect your decision to stay out of the field, for now. Let's re-evaluate that in a few months."

Ianto muttered something sleepily, squeezing the hand Jack had placed over his belly.

Jack squeezed back and simply held Ianto as he slept.


End file.
